SUMMER

I make my way through crowds to find the sea;

The tide’s internal clock tells it to turn.

A man stands like a withered flat-capped tree,

My grandad in a suit, his face set stern

Against the big idea that fills the beach:

The less you wear, the more you’re having fun.

His ghost has come from somewhere out of reach

And stands there sweating in the mid-day sun.

That generation liked to button up,

Got off the train then walked down to the sands,

Poured strong tea from a flask into a cup

That seemed so tiny in their massive hands.

Then, gazing at the sky, they liked to sit

And contemplate one less day down the pit.